


Overcoming

by ConstantlyTiredReader



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Clothed Sex, Depression, Domestic, Dry Humping, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Worth Issues, Sex, Smut, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:48:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23566342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstantlyTiredReader/pseuds/ConstantlyTiredReader
Summary: For the life of him, Rus can’t understand why Edge keeps going out of his way to spend time with him.At a base level, he gets it. They are dating, after all. But he still doesn’t understand why. Why would someone like Edge genuinely want to spend time with him?Sometimes, it can be tough to overcome doubts. Thankfully, Rus has Edge in his corner to remind him of his love.
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), Spicyhoney
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	Overcoming

For the life of him, Rus can’t understand why Edge keeps going out of his way to spend time with him.

Here Edge is in Rus’ home, making both of them supper because angel knows that Rus can’t. The pasta dish, which he can’t even properly remember the full name of despite knowing that it’s one of Edge’s favourites, smells delicious. Rus is just sitting at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers across the hard wooden surface in a way that is probably annoying as hell. Not contributing anything other than nuisance.

But what else is new?

At a base level, Rus gets why Edge comes to visit. They are dating, after all. But he still doesn’t understand _why_. Why would someone like Edge genuinely want to spend time with him?

It has to be because he feels bad for Rus. Some kind of obligation he feels out of a sense of pity where he sticks around just because he feels bad because Rus seems lonely as fuck. Which would be completely true, if it wasn’t for Edge. Angel knows that nobody else would want to spend time with him — except maybe for Blue, but he’s family and doesn’t count even if he should.

Yeah. That must be it. He’ll just stay and pretend to not hate spending time with Rus because Edge is a nice guy, such a nice guy, and how is it that a monster with too high LV who has fucking had to kill people before is still somehow a nicer guy than him? That’s probably why he doesn’t actually like him, just pretends to so Rus doesn’t feel excluded.

The worst part is, Rus can probably guess what would motivate Edge to be so kind to him: his HP. It already is so stupidly low. Someone like Edge, who likes taking care of people, who worries too much about people like Rus who don’t even _deserve_ it, would be concerned about it. Plus, it isn’t exactly a secret that his mental health isn’t the greatest. Combine that with an already abysmal HP and, well… Rus can understand those hypothetical worries that Edge might feel about him.

Logically, he knows he should probably communicate with Edge about this, or whatever the hell the Relationship Manual would recommend. Talking to Edge would probably bring the comfort he so desperately wants right now. He wants a hug, for Edge’s warm, strong arms to hold him close. He wants Edge to tell him that his brain is being dumb and to tell him he’s actually wanted. All it would take is for Rus to clear his throat, and Edge would be there for him. He is almost within arms reach as it is; Rus just needs to get up from his spot at the table. Logically speaking, this simple thing is what he knows he should do.

Logically.

However, despite knowing deep down that his guilt is irrational, the shouts of his various inadequacies overpower it.

Doubts high, Rus considers what might _actually_ happen if he goes to Edge about it. Sure, he will probably be comforted, but what if it makes him even needier than he is already? Edge doesn’t deserve to have to deal with someone like that. _Especially_ if he is already spending time with Rus because he feels like it’s the right thing to do and not because he actually enjoys his company.

Fuck it all.

With a piercing scrape, Rus pushes back his chair. Might as well go hide in bed. At least there, he can’t be annoying and in Edge’s way.

Thanks to the beauty of shortcuts, Rus collapses on top of his bed before Edge can even turn to comment on the loud noise he just made. Not bothering to take the effort to climb under the covers, he curls up where he lands. Arms tucked into his chest and knees pulled up nearby, he just. Lies there. Alone. Like he deserves to be.

Naturally, his time reserved for wallowing is disturbed by the slow creak of the door opening.

“Rus?” Edge asks lowly, poking his head in. “What’s wrong?”

Shit. Of course Edge noticed something being off. Of course he does. Even when Rus tries to hide his issues, Edge drops everything he’s doing to come to his rescue. Regardless of how important his work may be, he always drops it for Rus’ sorry ass. 

He doesn’t deserve this. Not when Edge probably doesn’t want to.

“don’t worry about it,” Rus says, voice muffled against his hands. “don’t wanna be a bother.”

Edge frowns. Then, before Rus can apologise for whatever caused that, Edge is across the room, the sudden weight of his body on the bed causing the mattress to shift. Even when he closes his eyes, Edge’s presence is obvious, sitting barely a handbreadth away from his curled up form. He can smell the subtle spice of his magic, mingling with the lemony soap he keeps in the kitchen; Edge must have washed up from working on supper.

As much as he enjoys it, the closeness brings yet another stab of culpability to his soul.

“Rus, sweetheart, can you look at me?”

Reluctantly, he does so, opening his eyes. Scarlet eye lights stare down at him, sharply assessing. It’s a struggle not to shrink under that gaze, even after it softens for him.

“I can assure you,” Edge says slowly, each word crystal clear, “whatever’s going on, you are _not_ a bother. And neither are your problems.”

Rus’ mouth remains glued shut. He swallows, but he still cannot bear to say anything. Instead, he looks away, focusing on the ever so fine thread pattern of the sheets. It’s blurry, staring so closely, but better that than looking at Edge. Not right now. 

He can’t bear it.

Beside him, Edge sighs. Great. Now he’s gone and disappointed Edge on top of being a general inconvenience.

“May I hold you?” Edge suddenly asks.

This manages to surprise Rus into looking back up at him. “why?” _Why would you want to?_

“Because,” he says, running a steady hand over the side of Rus’ skull. “I like holding you, and I thought you liked it too, normally.” Pausing, Edge bends down, taking his skull into his hands. He smoothes over Rus’ cheekbones before adding, “But I want to make sure.”

Rus nods shakily. Already, he can feel honeyed tears limning his sockets, threatening to spill over. He blinks, trying to hold them back.

“Oh, _Rus_ ,” Edge murmurs. His arms reach under him, taking Rus into his lap with remarkable ease. “What’s wrong, my love?”

At those two words alone, his already fragile emotional walls crumble to dust.

“ _please_ ,” he whispers, hating the raw desperation in his voice, “please don’t pretend to love me for my sake.”

Beneath him, Edge’s body jolts. “Rus —”

“ _please_ ,” he repeats. “if this isn’t real, just tell me. don’t pretend you like me if you really don’t. i don’t want you to date me if… if it’s some kind of duty thing. because you feel bad for me or something.” Hiding his face into the softness of Edge’s dark grey sweater, he pleads, “don’t waste your time on me. you deserve better. just. just rip the bandaid off. _please_.” At that last word, his voice cracks pitifully.

Edge pulls the hem of his sleeve over his thumb. Using it to wipe away the trail of his tears, he rubs soothing circles over Rus’ back with his other hand. “Papyrus.” 

Hearing his full name, he cringes further into Edge’s shirt. Sure, he straight up asked Edge to be honest and to get it over with, but still… Why does he have to be so _kind_ about it? 

Why does it hurt already?

“I have something I want to tell you, and I need you to listen very carefully. Can you do that for me?” Edge waits for Rus to nod before continuing, “Rus, I’m sure you know by now that I don’t particularly enjoy wasting my time doing things I don’t want to do.” Tone dry, he adds, “I think movie night alone is proof of that.”

Despite himself, Rus manages a watery snort. Yeah, that sure is true. He will never forget the infamy of the Shitty Action-Horror Movie Extravaganza; he still can’t believe that _Blue_ was the one to win the betting pool of which window Edge would try to escape through without the others noticing. 

“See,” Edge smiles. “I _like_ spending time with you, love. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here with you right now.”

Slowly, Rus nods. At a base level, Edge’s argument makes sense. His insecurities, however, can’t help but question it. Just because Edge likes Rus, it doesn’t mean that he likes him _that_ way. That he likes him enough to bother dating him.

Something in his demeanor must show his doubts. Edge may not be a Judge, but he is still too good at reading faces; his time in the Royal Guard has served him well in that aspect. 

In any case, Edge pulls out his phone. After a moment or two of hesitation, he unlocks his screen. Displayed on the background is a picture of the two of them. Taken on a beautifully sunny day last spring, they are sitting out on a park bench, Rus giving Edge bunny ears with a mischievous smile in contrast to Edge’s serious, albeit content one. The picture was taken on their third date. A little human grandma had been knitting while her wife and grandkids were watching ducklings in the nearby pond when she had noticed him and Edge and offered to take their photograph. A reminder of young love, she had told them, for their future. 

Rus can’t believe that it’s still Edge’s background after all this time.

“I meant to delete this off the face of the earth ages ago,” Edge says, delving deep into the subfolders of his gallery, “but now I’m glad I didn’t.”

Curiously, Rus watches as he types in a long password. As soon as it clears, a video pops up. He can feel Edge’s ribcage expand against him as he takes a deep breath, then clicks play.

Edge is visibly drunk in the video, sloppily so. That’s the first point of interest; Edge rarely allows himself to become anywhere near wasted. ‘Too dangerous to dull his senses’ and all that jazz. Next is the dark chuckles from offscreen. That tells Rus without a doubt the identity of the cameraman. He could recognise Red’s evil laugh from a mile away.

With a dramatic slow zoom, Red moves in on Edge, who is slouching against the wall of their living room. A glass of water is in his hand, sloshing all over the carpet. Finally, Red manages to muffle his snickers, allowing Rus to hear what Edge is saying.

“— just really love Rus, you know brother? I just love him so much —” Edge gestures with extra flair, sending the last of his water flying towards the camera, “— and I just don’t know how to cope with it.” The end of his sentence is punctuated by him flopping all the way down to the floor.

He’s almost crying at this point. Rus has never seen Edge cry before. But here’s video proof, the tough Underfell skeleton in tears, because of _Rus_ of all people.

The video goes on for over two minutes in a similar vein. Just. Over two full minutes of an intoxicated Edge rambling on and on about how he loves Rus, how he wants to protect him and look at him and all sorts of stuff like that. At one point, he even looks up at Red, eye lights slightly unfocused, and asks if they can go visit him so Edge can give him a hug. It is at that point that Red cuts the video off, muttering about how he needs to get Edge into bed. 

Edge doesn’t say anything once it ends, leaving his phone on the video preview. At the top corner is a date, and Rus’ eyes widen when he reads it.

This was filmed over a month before they had even started dating.

Squinting, Rus can see further proof in the background: a calendar. It may be blurry, but underneath the photo of a scenic beach at sunset, the month and year are still visible, confirming what Rus just found out. Edge is always so fastidious about changing out the calendar at the end of each month, crossing out the days as they pass.

Fast enough to give himself whiplash, Rus turns from the phone to look up at him. “e-edge?” His cheeks are burning brighter than a ripe tomato, yet he looks down at Rus tenderly. 

_Lovingly_.

It’s so real.

“Rus?” Edge’s voice raises in concern, and he swipes at his cheekbones with his thumbs. “Are you all right?”

Confused, Rus rubs the back of his own hand across his face. It comes back damp. He didn’t even realise that he started crying again.

“you really felt…?” Instead of finishing the question, he sniffles, all gross and teary. 

Despite that, Edge just continues to smile at him, sharp features softening even more as he reaches for a tissue. “Yes. I did feel that way. And I still do, love.”

He can’t help it. Shuddering, he clings closer onto Edge’s sweater. An ugly sob escapes his mouth, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Edge said that he loves him.

No, it’s not the first time. Rus has heard those words from Edge more than once before. But today, with the way his thoughts have been going… 

Edge loves him. He genuinely does.

They stay like that for what must be several minutes, Edge rocking them gently on the bed as Rus buries his face into his chest. Side to side to side to side, the motion brings back memories of when he used to do the same thing for Blue. Instead of humming a lullaby like he used to, though, Edge just breathes, a slow, steady cadence which encourages Rus to do the same. In and out. In and out. Shutting his eyes, the darkness eliminates a source of distraction from Edge’s presence. The wool is soft against his face, consolingly warm. Safe. He still feels so overwhelmed, his soul racing a million miles a minute and emotions flying. 

But now, at least, it’s a good kind of overwhelmed.

Gradually, his tears slow to a stop. As soon as they do, Edge grabs a water bottle from his inventory and hands it to Rus. He drinks greedily, the cool liquid soothing his magic. After downing half of it, he sets it aside. 

“Rus,” Edge says quietly, “is there anything else I can do to reassure you of my feelings for you?”

Tucking his head down, he mumbles, “maybe.”

“Tell me.”

Screwing his eyes shut, Rus prepares himself to be turned down. Edge has already done so much to help already. Unable to keep the desperation out of his voice, he asks, “show me?”

“Gladly, my love.”

Carefully, Edge lets go of him. Before the anxiety can fully well up in his soul — _don’t leave me!_ — Edge adjusts Rus’ position on his lap so that his back is to Edge’s chest and leans in for a kiss. Without faltering, Rus opens his mouth, giving Edge entrance. He feels himself relax as their tongues dance together, tension leaving his spine.

Even as they kiss, Rus wants Edge to be closer. It’s ridiculous, in some ways. He is already in direct contact with him, after all, his back molding to Edge. 

Yet, somehow Edge must be able to sense his thoughts. Without breaking away from his mouth, he moves his gloved hands from where he had been steadying Rus’ hips to wrap his arms around his chest instead. This draws their bodies even closer, clothing serving as a thin layer of buffer. Through it, he can feel the lulling pulse of Edge's soul. Rus’ breath catches.

This is already more than Rus was hoping for. But Edge doesn’t stop, much to his delight.

No, his kisses continue, moving down from Rus’ mouth down to his cervical vertebrae. Along the way, Edge murmurs tender words to him. Those words of love burn into Rus’ mind even as he thoughtlessly tilts his neck to allow better access.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” Edge says as Rus’ lids flutter shut in pleasure. Meanwhile, hands run teasingly over his clothed body. “Every single part of you.”

Face heating, he squeaks, “really?”

Pressing a small peck to the tip of his nasal aperture, Edge grins. “Mhm.” Nibbling just under his jaw, he explains, “I love your smile, the way it spreads to your entire being when you’re happy like a ray of sunshine.” 

Another kiss, this time lower on his neck. “I love your mind, so quick and clever and tricksy.”

Edge ducks around, reaching the other side of his vertebra for a kiss before Rus can react. “I love your soul. You shine so brightly, Rus.” Resting a hand over his sternum, he repeats, “So brightly, unlike anything I have ever seen. I am so lucky I have had the chance to experience it, Rus.

“And I love your magic.” In one move, Edge pulls up the front of his hoodie, running a single finger up his lower spine. Said magic begins to stir up in his pelvic cavity, hot and heavy. “Such lovely, lovely magic,” Edge says, finishing that sentence in a low groan near the base of his skull.

“Edge!” he gasps, staring up at the pale ceiling.

Much to his dismay, Edge stops. “Is this still okay?”

Rus doesn’t wait for him to finish asking the question before nodding. _Yes, please!_ With a small thunk, he rests his head back against Edge’s shoulder.

Edge reaches down, a red leather glove disappearing into light grey sweatpants. Lightly, he runs his fingers through the unformed magic, swirling it around. “What do you want, love?” Seductively, he purrs, “I want to make you feel good.”

 _You already are._ Shivering at the delightful touch, Rus turns to look Edge in the eyes. “i — _fuck!_ i want you —” All other words break off in a moan as Edge plays with his sacrum, but the sentiment is still sound. Just barely, he manages to keep his eyes open long enough to watch as Edge’s tender expression shifts momentarily into a satisfied smirk.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Stars, he can’t think. Not when Edge is touching him like that, kissing him, turning him into jello under his hands. If it weren’t for him still whispering his reassurances, Rus wouldn’t even be able to remember his own name! Everything is fuzzy in a good way. The pure sensation silences out any remaining darkness in his mind and god, it’s wonderful.

So wonderful, in fact, that Rus doesn’t even realise his magic has formed until cool, buttery leather wraps around the heat of his cock, still under his sweatpants.

“o-ohhhh,” he moans brokenly, pushing his hips up into the touch.

“That’s right.” Eyes half-lidded, Edge kisses his clavicle, continuing to stroke slowly. “Let me hear you, love.”

Hot, humid breath rests against that bone as Edge’s unoccupied hand sneaks up under Rus’ hoodie, fondling his sternum with ease. His bones rattle from the sheer pleasure of it all, loud in the silence of the bedroom. A soft orange glow shines on the bed from his excited magic, faint hints of red mingled within it. Distantly, Rus thinks that he wants to see more of that darker hue.

Before he can deal with that realisation, though, Edge’s grip tightens on his cock. He stops to thumb the slit, smearing around that first bead of wetness. 

Such a slight action, yet it manages to shock a sharp gasp out of Rus, his breath shuddering out. “ _edge_.”

“Yes,” he groans in response, a hard, hot line rubbing against Rus’ clothed coccyx. Realising that, Rus grinds back against him. Edge’s hand tightens its grip on his sternum, riding that sweet line between pain and pleasure. He may not be able to _see_ Edge’s reactions, but he can sure as hell tell that he liked that.

Looking down, Rus is entranced by the glide of Edge’s hand around his shaft. His motions are hypnotizingly fluid, adding a new layer of sensuality. Eyes burning, Rus knows he should blink. However, that would mean looking away. From certain angles, he can even see the slightest bit of Edge’s jeans and the large bulge hidden inside. How could he give that up?

Edge speeds up, pumping him harder. Not sure if he is trying to gain more out of Edge’s touch or if he’s trying to make this whole deal better for him, Rus squirms.

“There we go love,” Edge pants, driving his hips up in sync with those long, quick strokes. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?”

“yeah —” Edge rubs his thumb over the head of his dick, and Rus loses his breath with a strangled noise. “ _oh fuck!_ edge!”

It’s just all too much, too good. Between the buildup of his pleasure and his emotional exhaustion, Rus is helpless as his climax rushes over him. With a loud moan, he comes, a wet burst of magic landing on Edge’s gloves.

Ribcage rising and falling heavily, Rus sags back weakly as Edge continues to thrust against him, grunting against the side of his skull. He just needs to catch his breath. As soon as he does, Rus clumsily reaches behind himself, palming at Edge’s bulge through his pants. It’s awkward as all hell, but it must do the trick; even through the fabric, Rus can feel his dick twitch.

Edge doesn’t last much longer. Rus feels it as his boyfriend comes, a shiver running through him at both the forming damp spot at the front of his jeans and also the way he heartily groans Rus’ name when he does.

Clutching Rus flush against him, Edge exhales slowly. It takes some squirming, but Rus manages to turn to kiss him. Meeting him halfway, Edge is eager as can be, if a bit subdued from their recent exertion. Then again, Rus probably isn’t much better. He runs this thumb over the wet spot with a perverse sense of satisfaction as Edge shudders, overstimulated.

“Brat,” he mutters affectionately. Drawing Rus’ hands up and away from where they may cause trouble, Edge gives them a chaste kiss. He then places them on top of Rus’ chest, giving his hands a gentle pat before he falls back on his elbows to rest.

Curled up on his side on Edge’s chest, Rus’ mind is quiet as he cuddles in. Calm. At peace. Quietly, they both rest in the afterglow, Rus starting to drowse off. Only when Edge sits back up does he rouse, swallowing a displeased mumble.

“Did that help, love?”

Rus doesn’t have to consider the question. The answer is obvious to him, and he draws it out slowly, fully sated. “yeah. thanks.”

“You are very welcome.” Beneath him, Edge shifts and out of the corner of his vision, Rus can see him grimace. “Now, could I possibly interest you in a nice bath?”

A small smile makes its way on Rus’ face. There is no doubt in his mind that Edge is itching to get cleaned up. Especially considering how neither of them really got to taking their clothes off. Yawning, he says, “yeah. that would be nice.”

“Excellent.”

With that, he scoops Rus up in his arms, heedless of any concerned squawks. Buzzing a teasing kiss to his forehead, Edge stands up and makes his way to the bathroom.

“i love you so much,” Rus mumbles, eyes falling shut. Somehow, he has the sneaking suspicion that Edge might have to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t pass out in the tub again. “just want you to know that.”

He can hear the smile in Edge’s voice as he nuzzles close. “I know, sweetheart. I love you too.”

“i know.” He does. Deep down in his soul, he _knows_ that Edge does.

“Good.” Rus is jostled the tiniest bit as Edge toes open the bathroom door. Not enough for him to be disturbed, but just enough for him to blink back awake. This allows him to fully soak everything in with a smile, from the way Edge is holding him close to his chest like something precious to his sweet expression, just for Rus.

With another kiss, Edge sets him on top of the toilet. “Just a moment, love,” he says, taking out some fluffy white towels. “I just need to get this ready.”

“take your time.” This just gives Rus more of a chance to burn this all into his memory.

Steam rising from the bathtub, Edge wanders around, collecting all that he thinks they will need. Some sweet vanilla bubble bath, extra soap, and washcloths are among the items Rus notices.

Rus holds back a breathless laugh as Edge offers a hand to help him up to his feet with an elegant bow. “what did i ever do to find someone like you?”

Further cementing his gentlemanly charm, Edge kisses the back of his hand before he works on pulling off Rus’ hoodie to throw in the laundry hamper. “Funny. I ask myself the same thing every day.”

While Edge undresses them, still as affectionate as can be, Rus knows he _will_ remember this. And when he settles both of them into the tub, the hot water washing away the sweat and cooling magic on their bones, he knows exactly where he will go, should those doubts ever dare reappear.

Edge loves him, and nothing will change that.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](https://constantly-tired-reader.tumblr.com/) and [my Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/ConstantlyTiredReader)! Feel free to visit at any time.


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